CHAPTER 5
The meeting in the Oval Office convened just before dawn. Truman looked alert and fresh while Stettinius and Stimson looked tired and disheveled. Marshall, of course, looked impeccable although working hard to hide his fatigue. The previous night had been long. Burke, standing behind the general, had managed to find a clean uniform and looked reasonably presentable.
Truman looked around, glared, and began. “All right, who is this source and just how good is he? I find it rather incredible that what General Marshall describes as a mid-level functionary at the Soviet embassy would even have access to such inflammatory information as this. I also find it dubious that any other Russian in the United States would have it either.”
If Marshall was insulted by the implied rebuke, he didn’t show it. “The question’s a plausible one, Mr. President, and I’ve been trying to find that out as well. First, I would prefer not to divulge the Russian’s name. The more who know it, the more likely the fact of his treason will get back to his masters. That’s not to imply that anyone in this room can’t be trusted, but I believe his name is irrelevant. He is, however, one of a number of field-grade Russian officers stationed at the embassy. I have been able to confirm that he has, in the past, provided our intelligence people with little nuggets of information that would indicate he is not in love with his Communist leaders.”
“For money?” asked Truman.
“Yes.”
The president grabbed on to that line of thought. “Then the man could be doing this totally for reward. He could be lying through his teeth and there’s nothing we could do about it once he’s been paid.”
Marshall answered. “He knows the rules. He hasn’t been paid for this, and won’t be unless it is proven correct. He also hasn’t asked for anything.” Truman grudgingly nodded his appreciation of the fact.
“Yet,” said Truman, “he contacted your people and this colonel of yours was unexpectedly given the message. How did this come to pass?”
Burke was standing along the wall and felt a number of eyes on him. Some of the most important men in the United States were looking at him. He tried to appear stoic. He made it a point to memorize everyone and everything in the room along with what was being said. He could hardly wait to tell Natalie.
Marshall thought briefly of the grief that so often comes to the best-laid plans of men. “Sir, I found out that the Russian had contacted one of our intelligence people by telephone, probably a pay phone, and said he had information to give. In response, the Russian was told that an officer he knew would be at the embassy reception that night, and that the Russian should pass on whatever he had to that officer. At that time we had no idea of the contents of the message, or any indication from our source that it was so explosive. Our Russian played his cards very close.”
Truman laughed harshly, shook his head in disbelief, and glanced at Burke. “So when this Colonel Burke showed up, he was presumed to be the contact since your source knew him slightly.”
“Correct,” said Marshall. “The American officer originally designated to be the contact was delayed by car trouble. I have commended Colonel Burke for coming directly to me.”
The general added that the Russians had chased Burke and tried to kill him. Truman smiled tightly and looked at Burke with new respect.
Marshall continued. “Had Colonel Burke attempted to go through channels, it could have been many, many hours before I received it.”
If at all, he did not bother to add. Someone in the chain of command might have decided it was too preposterous to believe.
“But why?” Truman persisted. “How would this Russian creature even know of these plans and, again, why would anyone in their embassy be aware?”
Marshall answered. “It is just possible that they would, sir. Ambassador Gromyko is still in town and would have been advised that this attack on our force was going to occur, if for no other reason than to save him the confusion and embarrassment of being confronted by us after the attack took place. In hindsight I think it is significant that no senior Soviet embassy people were at that reception. They were probably lying low and out of sight just so they couldn’t give anything away.”
Truman turned to Marshall. “Then what have you done, General, to save our boys if this ungodly threat is true?”
Again, Marshall ignored any implications of insult. Truman’s bluntness was already well known. He thought of reminding Truman that the men were in this pickle because the president had ordered it. The look of concern on Truman’s face told everyone that the president already knew it.
“Sir, I have contacted General Eisenhower by phone and given him a previously agreed-upon code to cover this contingency. He will be contacting Bradley and Simpson and they will be taking the appropriate precautions. That is, those that can be taken under the circumstances. Regardless of what we do, we can only minimize the effect of any Russian attack. Sir, those boys are really out on their own.”
“General, what do you mean by ‘appropriate,’ and why didn’t you spell things out for Ike?”
“Sir, specific decisions should be made by the man at the scene, and that is Eisenhower. As to appropriate, I must remind you that we have not yet been attacked and no one has come forth to verify absolutely that this message is real. And, even if it is, there is nothing to stop the Reds from calling off their dogs at the last moment. General Eisenhower will order the column to halt, form into a defensive posture, which itself might forestall a Red attack, and we will do nothing to precipitate combat with them. If the Russians want to start a war, it is imperative that they are indeed the aggressors and not us.”
Truman seemed mollified. “You are right, of course. I just don’t want another Pearl Harbor.”
Nor did Marshall. He still churned inside whenever he thought of the time lost in warning the Pacific Fleet a little less than four years ago.
“Then what are their real intentions?” Truman asked the room, dismay evident on his face. “Do they really want war with us?” He stared at Burke. “You’re the one who got the message, and Marshall seems to be impressed with you. What are your thoughts, Colonel?
Burke was having difficulty breathing. The atmosphere had just gotten rarefied. “Presuming the warning is true, sir, an attack will be their version of a shot across the bow, a potentially very bloody and stern message, if you will, that we are to stay away. Very simply, sir, a paranoid Stalin does not believe our communications with them. He believes his own fears, and what’s being printed in some of our newspapers about the motives behind our drive on Berlin supports that.”
American and British newspapers had cheered the thought of American troops heading toward Berlin and getting there ahead of the Russians. One had even suggested that Hitler be held as a prisoner at Sing Sing.
Truman nodded sadly and cupped his chin in his hands. The enormity of his decision to send troops was weighing heavily. “But we cannot let our boys be slaughtered. If attacked they will fight back and we will try to save them, won’t we, General?”
Marshall’s face was set even more firmly then usual. “Yes, sir,” he said slowly.
Major General Christopher J. Miller sucked on his pipe and exhaled a small cloud of smoke from his dwindling supply of Virginia tobacco. It was this virtually continuous act that had given him his nickname of “Puff” early on in his military career. He had hated it, as he felt it made him seem soft. Now it no longer bothered him, and anyone who dealt with him knew that while he was polite, considerate, and even gracious, he was far from soft. He had to admit, though, that the additional pounds he had recently added to his five-foot-six-inch frame were also making him look just a little puffy.